Codependency
by SoAJic
Summary: After Splinter's death Michelangelo's nightmares begin again and he looks to Raphael to chase away the demons in the night just like he would when they were children. Raphael knows that Michelangelo's growing dependency on him is unhealthy and struggles to break the cycle before things get out of control. RaphXMikey, Tcest, Dub-con. Will continue if reviews are postive.
1. Chapter 1

Michelangelo had never been the most mature one of his brothers. In fact at now nineteen, he still had an affinity for bunny slippers, stuffed animals and sucking his thumb to get to sleep. Outside of the lair Michelangelo might have been the Battle Nexus champion, but within the confines of his own home Mikey could often be classified as clingy, insecure, and often times even codependent.

Leonardo took notice of Mikey's neediness; however as the oldest of his brothers and leader of their clan his concerns for Mikey were always more focused on his ninja training and not his emotional rearing.

Donatello also took note of Mikey's seemingly increasing need of the support and comfort his brothers provided within their home. Since Splinter had passed Mikey seemed increasingly attached to Leonardo and himself, leaving Donatello to scramble for moments of peace and quiet during the day in order to get any of his projects done. Between the two of them, Donatello and Leonardo seemed to pass Michelangelo back and forth all day.

Nobody talked about it though. Donatello and Leonardo seemed to think avoiding the phase until he grew out of it was better than addressing it.

Only Raphael knew that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Michelangelo never clung to Raphael. He never pestered him. He never asked for his company.

During the daytime at least.

At night when the nightmares crept in, turning the innocent shadows on his walls into demon monstrosities that haunted the insides of his eyelids, that was when Michelangelo sought Raphael's comfort.

It was a change from when they had been children and Raphael and Michelangelo were thick as thieves. They had spent their days imaging they were superheroes like in the comics they found. Or building forts with the express purpose of keeping out Fearless and Brainiac. Or when they'd sneak up to the surface and go dumpster diving behind an old toy store for the broken display toys the owner would throw away. As kids, Michelangelo and Raphael had been more than brothers, they had been pals.

Pals who shared everything.

That was why now, at twenty-one years old and seemingly a man amongst his naive brothers, Raphael knew this was more than a phase for Michelangelo. He knew they weren't just going to turn around one day and find that Mikey had "grown up." If anything he was more worried than ever that his baby brother was in fact getting worse.

But he didn't talk about it. He never talked about it. Raphael knew that if Mikey was getting worse he'd been condoning it since Splinter had died.

It'd been eight years since the last time Mikey had creaked Raph's door open in the middle of the night, seeking solace and comfort from the torment of his own imagination. Raphael even remembered the nightmare that Mikey had recounted to him about a circus clown intent on slaughtering their family. It had been graphic and Mikey had told it to him in such detail that even Raphael was shaken by the images.

That'd been Michelangelo's last visit to Raphael's room in eight years.

Then Splinter died. It was sudden and unexpected. And though all of them struggled with it, it broke Michelangelo.

Three nights after, Raphael woke to his bedroom door creaking open and Mikey poking his head inside. After eight years the nightmares were back.

Raphael hesitated in a moment of uncertainty as Mikey pleaded with to let him stay the night with him.

Raphael didn't want to go there again. It'd been hard enough when they were kids to get Mikey to sleep in his own room. He knew if he said yes he'd be opening the door on all of the demons he'd worked so hard to lock behind it for the past eight years. He knew giving in to his brother's request would break him. But he could never say no to Mikey and with a sigh he agreed, trying his best to make Mikey know he meant it when he told him it could only be just this once.

Mikey had reluctantly agreed and slipped inside of Raphael's bedroom, closing the door as silently as he could. Raph got up from his hammock and held it steady for Mikey to climb into, both of them remembering that they faired better with Mikey on the wall side. It was harder for him to accidentally tip them both on the floor in the middle of the night, and Raphael was much more comfortable with their arrangement if he himself slept with his shell to the door. It hid Mikey's form in the event anyone came barging in without knocking.

Raphael didn't ask what his brother had dreamt of that night. Instead Raph laid with his brother until Michelangelo's quiet murmurings of a request to comfort him broke the silence.

Raphael sighed as he slung his arm around Mikey's waist and pulled him in close for a snuggle. Mikey's shell pressed tight against Raph's plastron and he could feel Raph's heart beat. They lay that way for a long time. The soothing rhythm was nearly enough for Mikey.

Nearly.

Soon Mikey murmured again. It was just two words.

_ Please, Raphie._

They shattered Raphael.

With his heart heavy, guilt filling it within an instant Raphael gave in to Michelangelo's need to be comforted that night.

That night wasn't the last though. Day after day, Michelangelo seemed to cling a little more to their brothers, and night after night he returned to Raphael.

No. No one talked about it, and Raph couldn't be the one to bring it up now. Not when Michelangelo didn't seem to seek his attention or bother him during the day. And not when he assuredly was perpetuating the problem every night that Mikey crept into his room. Raphael knew this wasn't just going to stop with Michelangelo.

No. If he wanted his brother to grow up, Raphael was going to have to stop doing things for him. Raphael was going to have to stop letting Mikey depend on him to provide the comfort he was seeking.

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><p><strong>AN: So... If you want more of this, review and let me know. In my head this story is plotted out for many more chapters but if there's no real interest then I wont bore you guys with it, especially if it doesnt really feel like its going anywhere. I've just always thought there was more to Mikey than his carefree spirit than meets the eye. Mikey's not as naive as he appears sometimes, and nor is Raphael as blockheaded as he allows people to assume of him. But let me know if you're into where this is going so far or if I should throw in the towel.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So... Sorry I took so long. Spring break was this week so I figured Id get something posted. For those of you who are worried that this is going to go in a romance direction, it's not. For those of you who want this to go in a romance direction, its not. I know I'm letting some folks down, but its not that kind of fic. For those that are worried that Raph's a big jerk and Mikey's a little needy and clingy, all I can say is that the title goes both ways. I know I'm treading in taboo waters this chapter, but it'll probably be one of the three chapters in this fic where that happens and its mostly to give back story and have the readers understand why Raphael and Michelangelo end up having the issues they do as adults, not just with each other, but within their own personalities as well. Per usual, reviews are welcome to help gauge interest and reader investment. Seatbelts, safety glasses, hard-hats on and here's chapter two**

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><p>To say that he'd been a troubled teenager would have been an understatement. Raphael had fought with Leonardo tooth and nail. He'd felt like a failure to his father every time he'd let his anger consume him. He'd lost his temper and lashed out physically more times than he could count. It seemed from the second he turned thirteen, Raphael was the definition of the very word troubled.<p>

Troubled was an understatement though. If his family had known what he was struggling with, he knew for sure he would have been sent away and disowned by their father. So he hid it. He hid his troubles, guilt, and self loathing behind walls of anger, letting that become the only emotion he was capable of feeling. And even though it drove a rift between him and the rest of his family, as the years went by he was able to begin to feel normal again. He was able to forget that there was something seriously wrong with him.

Raphael remembered very clearly the day he realized he had a problem.

He was nine.

He'd been in his bedroom after dinner struggling to complete a math worksheet his father made up for him. He knew even though he and Leonardo were doing the same studies that Leonardo was probably finding the problems far easier. Raphael was already sure that he was no genius, but he was determined and hoped that made up for his often inability to grasp many of the concepts his farther was teaching them from human world.

Reading, writing, math, science. It was all a struggle.

His younger brother Donnie though, was a genius. And had far surpassed the lessons he and Leonardo were learning. With Donnie being younger than Raphael by a year, his brains only served to make Raphael feel more dimwitted. If Mikey could have sat down long enough to begin to learn how to read, Raph was sure that he would have been the slowest learner amongst his brothers. But Splinter didn't have Michelangelo doing any studies other than ninjitsu, as it seemed to be the only thing Michelangelo could focus on for more than a few minutes.

At seven, it was clear to Splinter that Michelangelo was a bit different than his brothers. More sensitive, more free spirited, and immensely more energetic. When Michelangelo wasn't running around the surface with Raphael he was clinging to the end of Splinter's robe like a tiny turtle-shaped shadow. Michelangelo needed people, and at such a young age his need for comfort trumped his need to learn his ABC's and 123's. Besides, there would be plenty of time for those things once Michelangelo's attention span increased.

Raphael scribbled away with his pencil, trying to figure out how to solve a division problem he was sure was going to have a remainder when his bedroom door creaked open and Mikey stuck his head in, his wide eyes searching around until they came to rest on Raphael's shell.

"Raphie," an urgent hushed whisper left Mikey's lips and Raphael turned from the small table he was hunched over in order to look at his brother.

"What, dorkwad?"

Mikey didn't flinch at the insult; instead he pushed his entire round, freckled face through the crack in the door. "Something's wrong with my-" He stopped abruptly before starting again almost as quickly. "Something's wrong with me."

Raph snorted and turned back to his worksheet, "Tell me something I don't know."

"No, you gotta believe me!" Mikey slipped into the room and closed the door quickly behind him. He had his favorite blanket draped around him like a cloak that he held closed in the front as it dragged the floor while he crossed the room toward his brother. "I don't know what's wrong with it, Raphie."

Mikey was whining, and that was by no means the best way to gain Raph's sympathy or attention. If anything it was the best way to annoy him.

"What's wrong with what, twerp?" Raph didn't look up as he counted on his fingers, seeing how many times he could get to a full count of five in an attempt to figure out what twenty-seven divided by five was.

"My winkie, there's something wrong."

Raph's gaze twisted up from his worksheet to settle on his youngest brothers frightened features. "Whadaya mean there's something wrong with it? And would ya stop callin' it that already? It's a dick, not a winkie. Even penis would be better, bro."

Mikey took a shaky breath, "F-fine. There's something with my..." He paused to figure out the best word to use in front of Raphael and to figure out which of the two options he was given made him the least uncomfortable. Neither one was okay. "With down there."

"Geez, Mikey. Spit it out already so I can finish my math! I don't got all day. What's wrong with down there?"

"It... it came out of my pocket."

Raph was less than distressed by the news. "So?"

"It wont go back in. Something's wrong with it. It's... bigger. And when I try to put it back, it just... pops back out again. I tried a few times but it started to hurt when I'd get it back in. Something's wrong with it!" Mikey parted his blanket and exposed himself to his older brother.

Immediately a fit of laughter possessed Raphael. "Ya got a boner, you bonehead! Relax. Just go jerk off or somethin'."

"A what?"

"It's when yer dick.." Raph paused. Truthfully he wasn't sure what a boner was, other than when a guy's dick got stiff and rubbing it made it feel better than anything in the world. He knew it had something to do with sex, but he wasn't entirely about that either. He was almost certain it had something to do with a guy rubbing his dick on lady's privates to get that same good feeling. "It's when you need to make yourself feel good. Like when you eat a bunch of pizza and ice cream and get all happy then sleepy. But better. Just go rub it till it feels real good down there, then it'll go away." He picked up his pencil and went back to his worksheet.

Mikey's face contorted as he tried to understand. "What am I supposed to rub it with?"

"Yer hand, doofus. Or yer pillow. Just... go in yer room and rub it against something for a while."

Mikey opened his mouth to ask another question then closed it again, thinking better of annoying Raph any further and feeling embarrassed for thinking there was something wrong with him when apparently Raph was sure it wasn't a big deal. He gathered his blanket around him and headed to the door.

"Don't go sharing the fact that you got yer first boner with everybody. It's a private thing. And what you do with it's a private thing too, shellferbrains." Raph warned casually over his shoulder, having long ago learned that masturbation was an action that should be kept discrete.

Mikey didn't reply and Raph heard the soft click of his door as it closed behind his little brother.

Twenty-seven wasn't fitting into even amounts of five and Raph was sure he'd screwed up his counting somewhere. Or there was going to be a remainder and he wasn't too sure how that was going to work out. He bite the tip of his tongue before flipping his pencil over and erasing all the work he'd done on the problem to start over. He wasnt sure how long he'd worked at the same problem, doing it over and over and seeming to get no closer to the answer, or to anything he thought might be kind of close. It didnt matter though, because his attention was stolen when he bedroom door creaked open again.

"Raphie, its not working!" Mikey's voice was higher pitched, his level of distress more evident as he poked his head inside.

Raph dropped his pencil down on his worksheet before turning to face his brother, "Mikey, I don't have time for this."

Mikey shook his head, dismissing Raphael's comment entirely as he pushed his way through the door and closed it behind him again. He still had his blanket draped around him and his bandana was wet around his eyes, a clear give away that he'd been crying. "It wont go back in and it hurts!"

Raph's face twisted into a grimace as Mikey dropped the blanket to the floor, exposing his erection again. The little shaft was dark green straining and the tip was purple and swollen. "Ya tried what I said?" He asked, trying not to seem disgusted by his little brother's lewdness.

Mikey nodded, "It made it worse."

"Hmm," Raph leaned forward, his face close to Mikey's crotch, seemingly inspecting it.

"Well?!" Mikey flapped his hands in a panic, "What's wrong with it?!"

"Well what? It looks normal. Yer just gonna have to work at it."

Mikey nearly wailed, tears filling his eyes again, "I cant Raphie, it hurts!"

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Raph grumbled as he stood up and gave Mikey a small shove back towards his bed, "Yer pathetic, ya know? Sit down."

Mikey's legs backed up to the bed and he sat instantly, his hands at his sides running over the fluffy blanket on Raph's bed.

Raph took a knee in front of, "This is the only time I'm gonna show ya how to do this, got it? Cause it really ain't that complicated."

Mikey nodded, his eyes resting on his lap

"Yer pitiful, Mikey. Everybody should be able to figure this out on their own, ya know? I figured it it out, so it ain't rocket science." Raph took hold of him firmly between his finger and his thumb. He looked up at Mikey's face, seeing the tears spilling from his little brother's eyes. "Ya gonna cry while I'm tryin' ta help ya?"

Mikey sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands, "I'm not pathetic, it just hurts."

Raph snorted, "Ya are pathetic. Just quit yer cryin' and pay attention so we can get this over with, okay?"

Raphael remembered that day clearly in his mind, because after Mikey had slinked off back to his own room, sated and more in need of sleep than he'd ever been in his young life, Raph had taken his own erection in his hand and pleasured himself as he thought of his little brother sitting on his bed, with his legs spread, trusting him to do whatever he thought would take the pain away.

Even though Raph was nine, he knew that what he'd done to Mikey could never happen again. Mikey would have to figure things like that out on his own. Because for the first time Raphael actually felt needed, and he liked that feeling. That feeling of being needed was more of a turn on than any of the dirty magazines he'd caught a glimpse of while he riffled through dumpsters, or any of the shows he saw on TV late at night when he was supposed to be in bed, the ones with humans kissing and rubbing against each other.

Raphael remembered the pleasure he got that day when he finally brought himself to completion. The pleasure he got from touching Michelangelo while he needed him. That realization even at the time was enough for Raphael to know that there was something wrong with him. There was something wrong with him for enjoying it. He shouldn't have enjoyed it at all, he was just trying to help. At first at least. He promised himself that day that what he and Mikey had shared together would never, ever happen again. That wasn't for brothers to share with each other.

Raphael had managed to keep that promise to himself for all of two days before it happened again. And again. And again and again for nearly the next four years. Michelangelo was Raphael's little slice of heaven every night, creeping into his bedroom claiming he'd had nightmares, begging Raph to do that "thing" to make him sleepy.

Raphael obliged Michelangelo every night, his focus solely on his brother, never asking or expecting anything in return. Mikey needing him was enough to make Raph feel good, and things continued on that way...

Until the night Raphael needed something too. Mikey's nightly visits ended abruptly afterward, and the anger that consumed Raphael afterwards was a real nightmare for everyone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I've realized that this story has gotten bigger in my mind than I had initially planned for. Based on that, I will try to update more often. But I will try to still keep the chapters short and sweet. Or short and tormented. Either way. Let me know what you guys think. Reviews help get this bad boy done faster... And fair warning, Raph says "fuck" a lot this chapter. I don't know why, other than the fact that the Raph that lives in my head says "fuck" a lot. *shrugs* Sorry.**

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><p>Leonardo sat in the dojo with his legs crossed and his hands resting palms up on his knees. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed to a crawl as he sat deep in mediation.<p>

Michelangelo sat next to him, his pose similar but less rigid. Every once in a while one of his eyes would peek open to see if maybe Leonardo was almost done, and they could do something else. As much as Michelangelo wanted to hang out with Leonardo, mediation was a drag that wasn't helping him out at all. In fact, all the quiet time to think just allowed his mind to wander places he didn't want it to.

He closed his eyes again and tried to take a relaxing breath, but the images that passed through his mind had his eyes open again before he exhaled.

All he could see was Splinter.

Splinter clutching his chest, before pitching forward and hitting the stone floor in the kitchen. Michelangelo knew a heart attack when saw one, and the bowl of cereal he'd been eating hit the floor seconds after his father.

Michelangelo had tried. He'd screamed for his brothers, he'd propped Splinter's head up, he'd listened intently to his father's wishes. He did everything he could think to do until Donatello finally burst into the kitchen, frantic and panicked.

Leonardo was through the entryway next. His feet skidded to a halt as soon as his eyes settled on the sight in front of him. He steadied himself against the counter and that was where he stayed even though Donatello was calling for his assistance.

Raphael had been the last to come running, but he was the first to shove Michelangelo away from their father, and the first to tell him that everything he was trying to help Donatello do was wrong.

"The fuck is wrong with you?! Stop fuckin' clingin' to him so Donnie can help!"

Before Michelangelo even realized it he was a good five feet across the room with the cold of the stone floor biting at his rear. He could feel Leonardo's legs against his shell and turned his gaze up to his brother, seeking Leonardo's collected demeanor to ground him during that moment.

But Leonardo wasn't there. His eyes were vacant and his mouth agape as though his consciousness had left the room. Any movement he made was only to keep himself up right, to keep a firm hold on the counter.

Donatello and Raphael were both on their knees over their father; Donatello doing everything he could as the family doctor while Raphael cursed at him to do it faster, to do it better.

"Damn it, Raph, stop yelling at me so I can think!"

"Yer supposed to be the goddamn genius! Whataya need ta think for, fuckin' fix him already!"

All of Raphael's demands didn't do any good. Splinter slipped away a few minutes later. It was another half hour though before Donatello ceased CPR. He'd been more terrified of extinguishing the hope his brothers held that he could fix their farther than he had been of anything in his life.

It wasn't until he felt Leonardo's hand place itself tentatively on his shoulder that he even dared to look up from their father's body.

"He's gone, Donnie." It came out in such a whisper that Leonardo was surprised the words had even left his lips at all.

Donatello nodded, his hand coming to rest on top of Leonardo's giving it firm but comforting squeeze. It was all that he could manage.

"Wha-wha-whataya mean h-he's gone?!"

Donatello knew Raphael intellectually understood the words; his emotional processing of them was a different story. Donnie took a deep breath as he stood and faced Raphael, noticing for the first time how dilated his pupils were. The golden irises of his eyes had all but disappeared, leaving Donatello to state into the big black pits of despair that were quickly consuming Raphael's soul.

"Raph," Donnie started as he tried to close the distance between them. Every time he took a step closer, Raphael took a step back, shuffling through the cereal and milk from Mikey's bowl with bits of the broken ceramic crunching under his feet until his shell finally bumped into the kitchen table. The suddenness of it was enough to send his hands out it an attempt at finding a solid perch to steady himself. His fingers locked over the back of a chair and he held on to it like an anchor as the room began to swim around. He was drowning in his grief, never knowing it could be so immediate or tear through him with such pain that he thought he too might die right there next to his farther.

"Raph," Donnie tried again, placing a hand on his brother's shell.

The sound that erupted from Raphael at that moment drove a spike of fear straight to Michelangelo's core. It was primal and anguished. Desperate and guttural. It was like no sound Michelangelo had ever heard in this universe or any other.

Leonardo righted himself as best as he could, knowing for certain that more than any of them Raphael needed to be consoled.

"Raphael," Before Leonardo could get any further, the chair Raphael had been clutching went flying through the air, smashing into the upper cabinets on the other side of the room and splintering into a dozen pieces before hitting the floor next to Michelangelo.

Mikey scooted away from the mess as fast as his legs could push his bottom across the floor, then he pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face against them. His hands came up to cover his ears when he heard the sound again. He couldn't take it. It was almost like nails on a chalk board, scratching and tearing at his soul.

Michelangelo's father was dead and his brother, the one he could count on for everything, was broken.

Michelangelo stayed where he was, doing his best to block it all out. To block out Raphael's cries, to not let his eyes fall on Splinter's body. He kept them squeezed shut, pressed against his knees, his hands trying desperately to cut off all the sound happening inside the kitchen.

_Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green,_

_When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen._

_Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?_

_'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so._

Michelangelo found the song running through his mind, blocking out everything around him. He remembered singing it with his brothers when they were tots, and soon it ran free from his lips as he muttered it aloud against his knees.

Over and over Michelangelo found himself in an endless refrain, the sounds in the room were more than he could handle. Leonardo's long sighs. Donatello's cold, detached assessments of what they should do with Splinter's body, and the wailing from Raphael that wouldn't seem to cease. The louder that his brothers got, the louder Michelangelo mumbled his tune until he was choked into a sudden silence.

He wasn't sure when Raphael had stopped wailing. Nor was he sure when Raphael's eyes had settled on him. He wasn't even sure when the grief in them had turn to anger. All he was sure of was the fact that he was flat on his shell, with his eyes wide and starting into Raphael's snarling face as his brother's hands closed around his throat.

"This is yer fault! This is yer fault, and you sit here singin' fuckin' nursery rhymes!"

Michelangelo didn't struggle against Raphael's hold. No, he rather embraced it. He knew in his heart if he had been smarter, faster thinking, less panicked, he might have been able to do more for their father.

But just as quick as he had found Raphael on top of him, squeezing the life out of him, he found the weight of his brutish brother had gone and air was flooding back into his lungs. He eyes showed his disappointment as Donatello and Leonardo dragged Raphael away from him, stumbling over Splinter's body as Raphael fought against them. The three tumbled onto the floor in a heap, gasping for breath from the sudden exertion.

Raphael's eyes were locked on Michelangelo as he shrugged out of his brothers' hold and pushed himself into a sitting position. The intensity of his gaze was more than Michelangelo could handle and he returned his hands to their position over his ears as he rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest.

He went back to his song before Raphael was standing over him, snarling down at him with disgust.

"This is what yer gonna do? Yer gonna keep doin' this?"

The only answer Raphael received was more of Michelangelo's melodic mutterings.

"Grow the fuck up, Mikey! Yer daddy ain't here to let you act like a fuckin' baby no more."

"Raph, stop." Leonardo's voice broke through, but it was more out of reflex than out of any expectation to actually halt Raphael's speech. Leonardo knew Raphael enough to know his grief was causing him to lash out at their little brother and there was nothing he or anyone else could say to make Raphael understand that his shroud of anger was misguided. Getting Raphael to channel his anger had always been Splinter's specialty.

Now Splinter was gone and Leonardo wondered if there would ever be anything that could get through to his brother.

"Yeah," Raph mumbled as his head bobbed, "Take the baby's side. Why should I expect anything else, huh?" His shoulders slumped unexpectedly for all of a second before he turned on Leonardo with a renewed fire in his eyes. "Take everybody's side but mine, huh Leo? Fuck me, right? Fuck how I feel! Right, Leo? Cause it ain't my father layin' dead on the goddamn kitchen floor, just yer's and his," He pointed at Donatello who was still sitting on his rump with his legs tangled with Splinter's from the tumbled they'd taken. "And his." He gestured down at Michelangelo's curled up form as he shook his head and a deep chuckle escaped his throat.

Leonardo's face scrunched and he pinched the bridge of his beak. Nothing he could say would be the right thing and he quite honestly didn't have the energy to fuel the fire consuming his brother.

"You're not helping this," Leonardo finally spoke after Raphael's chuckle finally died in his throat. "You aren't helping Mikey or me or Donnie. Or even Sensei. You're hurting, I get it Raph. But don't do this, don't act like this."

Raphael's eyes were narrowed on Michelangelo as Leonardo spoke. He felt a gentle hand place itself on his shoulder and it was enough to cause the tears he hadn't known he was holding back to spill from his eyes and into the fabric of his red mask.

"Lean on us. Don't push us away."

Raphael sniffled before he shrugged Leonardo's hand from his shoulder. He turned on his heels and exited the kitchen. "I ain't stayin' here."

"Raph would you just-"

"Don't follow me, Leo!"

The door to the lair slamming shut behind Raphael was the last thing Michelangelo remembered from that night.

Now, a month later, as he sat on the floor of the dojo with Leonardo trying his hardest to meditate, to not fidget, to center himself like a true ninja should, he could feel a pair of golden eyes boring into his shell from the doorway. He didn't dare turn to meet them though, nor did he acknowledge them at all. Instead he pretended not to notice Raphael watching him, because he wasn't sure what expression he would find on his face if he did look at him.

Leonardo let out an exasperated sigh but didn't open his eyes or break his form. "Can you please try to focus, Mikey."

Michelangelo shook his head to clear it as he firmed up his pose, straightened his back and closed his eyes. "I'm trying Leo, I'm just... distracted," He mumbled.

Leonardo nodded. "Raph!" He called over his shoulder, surprising both Michelangelo and Raphael at the fact that he was aware of Raphael's presence in the doorway.

Raphael cleared his throat but didn't move from where he was slouched against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. It was the only indication he gave that he was acknowledging being addressed.

"You're bothering Mikey."

"I ain't botherin' nobody, I'm just watchin' him squirm around like a pig in shit."

Michelangelo turned to look at Raphael and was happy to find a smirk on his face. Raph winked at him. He was teasing him, sure, but it was good-natured.

"He's got too much energy to sit here trying to relax with you, Leo."

Leonardo straightened his posture and took a deep breath, "He needs to work on his meditation techniques. Besides, he's the one who wanted to hang out with me today."

"Yeah, yeah. Yer his new BFF," Raphael snorted back a laugh. "I'm going topside for a run. Enjoy the rest of yer squirming, Pig Boy."

Michelangelo blushed.

"It's still daylight, Raph!"

"Blah, blah! Nag somebody who cares, Fearless."

Leonardo turned around finally to address Raphael but he'd already disappeared, leaving Michelangelo sitting with a goofy grin and Leonardo with a scowl.


End file.
